Chapter 2: Chapter 2: The Cut Thread - Inside An Elegant Restaurant, A Little Girl Suddenly Pointed At Clara’s Necklace And Whispered, “Ma’am… That Necklace Belongs To My Mother.” Clara Froze. The Necklace Had Been Created As A Matching Pair—One Belonged To Her, While The Other Disappeared The Same Night Her Daughter Maya Vanished Five Years Earlier. But Before The Girl Could Reveal Her Mother’s Name, Clara Looked Through The Glass Doors And Saw Elena, The Former Nanny She Had Once Trusted More Than Anyone. And Around Elena’s Neck… Was The Missing Half.

Inside An Elegant Restaurant, A Little Girl Suddenly Pointed At Clara’s Necklace And Whispered, “Ma’am… That Necklace Belongs To My Mother.” Clara Froze. The Necklace Had Been Created As A Matching Pair—One Belonged To Her, While The Other Disappeared The Same Night Her Daughter Maya Vanished Five Years Earlier. But Before The Girl Could Reveal Her Mother’s Name, Clara Looked Through The Glass Doors And Saw Elena, The Former Nanny She Had Once Trusted More Than Anyone. And Around Elena’s Neck… Was The Missing Half.

Chapter 2: Chapter 2: The Cut Thread

Chapter 2: The Cut Thread

The world stopped turning. The ambient murmur of the restaurant faded into a dull, hurried roar, like blood pumping frantically in my ears.

I froze; the silver fork slipped from my fingers and slammed against the porcelain plate. I stared at the child, a chill of dread gripping my stomach. My hands trembled so violently that I had to press them against the starched white tablecloth to hide the shaking.

“What… what did you just say?” I asked, my voice hoarse and broken. I was terrified to speak any louder, terrified that this was just another cruelty invented by my disturbed mind.

The girl stepped back a little, intimidated by my intensity, but her charming innocence kept her in place. “Your necklace,” she repeated, her gaze fixed on the gold resting against my skin. “My mom has one just like it. She keeps it hidden under her pillow. She thinks I don’t know, but I saw it.”

A geological fault opened up right in the center of my chest.

Exactly the same.

That was impossible. The mold for this jewel was destroyed the very day it was made. Only two pieces existed in the entire world. If this girl’s “mother” had the other half, it meant that the woman who raised her had been at my house that night.

I looked at the girl’s face again. The shape of her nose. The sharp, defiant curve of her chin. The birthmark, faint but undeniable, just below her left earlobe. The denial I had worn like armor for five years shattered.

Maya.

I felt a lump in my throat. The woman who brushed her hair, who kissed her scraped knees, who tucked her into bed at night, was the monster who had shattered my universe.

I lunged forward, ignoring the scraping of my chair against the polished wooden floor. I fell to my knees right there in the dining room, oblivious to the gasps of astonishment from the diners at the neighboring tables. I cupped the girl’s shoulders. They were so fragile, so incredibly small in my hands.

“Honey,” I stammered, as tears finally ran down my eyelashes, burning against my cold cheeks. “Where is she? Is your mom here?”

Maya blinked, startled by my tears, and slowly raised her arm. She pointed with her little finger at the enormous floor-to-ceiling glass doors at the entrance of the restaurant.

“She’s outside,” Maya said. “She told me to wait by the coats while she made a phone call.”

I swung my head sharply toward the lobby. Through the thick glass, silhouetted against the neon glow of the streetlights, I saw a woman pacing nervously, a burner phone pressed to her ear. She was wearing a heavy trench coat, her face half-hidden by a scarf, but her posture was unmistakable. It wasElenaMy former nanny. The woman I entrusted with my world.

And when my gaze met hers through the glass, I saw her freeze. She saw me looking at her. She saw Maya standing beside me.

And he ran away.